Bill: As you know, I’m quite keen on comic books. Especially the ones about superheroes.
I find the whole mythology surrounding superheroes fascinating. Take my favorite
superhero, Superman. Not a great comic book. Not particularly well drawn. But the
mythology … the mythology is not only great, it’s unique.
The Bride: [who still has a dart in her leg] How long does this shit take to go into
Bill: About two minutes, just long enough for me to finish my point. Now, a staple of the
superhero mythology is there’s the superhero and there’s the alter ego. Batman is
actually Bruce Wayne, Spider-Man is actually Peter Parker. When that character wakes up
in the morning, he’s Peter Parker. He has to put on a costume to become Spider-Man. And
it is in that characteristic Superman stands alone. Superman didn’t become Superman.
Superman was born Superman. When Superman wakes up in the morning, he’s Superman. His alter ego is Clark Kent. His outfit with the big red “S”, that’s the blanket he was
wrapped in as a baby when the Kents found him. Those are his clothes. What Kent wears –
the glasses, the business suit – that’s the costume. That’s the costume Superman wears to
blend in with us. Clark Kent is how Superman views us. And what are the characteristics
of Clark Kent? He’s weak, he’s unsure of himself, he’s a coward. Clark Kent is
Superman’s critique on the whole human race. Sort of like Beatrix Kiddo and Mrs. Tommy
The Bride: Aso. The point emerges.
Bill: You would’ve worn the costume of Arlene Plympton. But you were born Beatrix Kiddo.
And every morning when you woke up, you’d still be Beatrix Kiddo. Oh, you can take the
The Bride: [does so] Are you calling me a superhero?
Bill: I’m calling you a killer! A natural born killer. You always have been, and you
always will be. Moving to El Paso, working in a used record store, going to the movies
with Tommy, clipping coupons. That’s you … trying to disguise yourself as a worker bee.
That’s you trying to blend in with the hive. But you’re not a worker bee. You’re a
renegade killer bee. And no matter how much beer you drank or barbecue you ate or how fat your ass got, nothing in the world would ever change that.
Who are you, really?